


The King and the Lionheart

by nerdytf84fan



Series: One Star-Crossed Cowboy [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soft boys being soft, brief run-in with O'Driscolls, only brief though, yet again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-02 00:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdytf84fan/pseuds/nerdytf84fan
Summary: From observation alone, Albert has a good idea of how much Arthur cares about him. However, it isn't until an unexpected encounter with a few O'Driscolls that he realizes what lengths Arthur is willing to go to keep him safe, and Arthur fears the gentleman may never see him in the same light again.





	The King and the Lionheart

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments friends! <3 I greatly appreciate them! 
> 
> As for this series, I believe I have one more work up my sleeve before wrapping it up. This work was also mildly inspired by the song "King and Lionheart" by Of Monsters and Men. Thanks for sticking around!

Arthur grinned as he lifted his cigarette to his mouth and took one last drag before putting it out and flicking it to the side. It had been splendid weather these last few days, and somehow the outlaw had convinced Albert to practice his sharpshooting skills. They were back in the rolling hills of the heartlands. The wide-open valleys were far more ideal for target practice than the dangerous swamps near Saint Denis. There were too many predators and malicious strangers there for Arthur's liking, and he'd rather take his chances being sniffed out by Pinkertons than risk endangering Albert. 

He removed his hat as the gentle breeze rustled his hair and watched Albert from where he sat in the tall grass. The man took a steady breath, drew his revolver, and unloaded the six-shooter into the tree in front of him. Arthur felt a swell of pride rise in his chest. The nature-loving photographer had made leaps and bounds in his ability to use a gun. Seeing the improvement helped ease Arthur's mind. While he loved being able to come to Albert's aid, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn’t always be able to. 

Albert grinned and admired his work before his gaze shifted to Arthur. "Well? What do you think?" 

"That was some mighty fine shooting!" He replied.

"Thank you, good sir," Albert said with a tip of his hat. 

Arthur chuckled and patted the spot beside him. "Come ‘ere, sharpshooter, and watch some clouds with me."

Albert smiled and humored him in the simple request. They both lied back in the grass, Arthur's arms folded behind his head as Albert used his broad chest as a pillow.

As they lied there in silence watching the clouds shift and change with the wind, Albert found himself synchronizing his breathing with Arthur's. His breaths were deep and steady, a rhythm that could very well lull him to sleep. Albert closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Arthur’s chest as well as the dazzling sunlight. This was the Elysium Albert had been searching for while attempting to photograph the beauty of nature, yet he never thought it would be a person rather than the untouched wilderness.

His head bounced against Arthur's chest, his pleasant musings coming to a grinding halt as he coughed beneath him. Albert opened his eyes and looked over at him. The light cough had left as quickly as it came but concerned him nevertheless.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure, just got something caught in my throat, is all," Arthur replied. 

Albert sat up and studied him with a skeptical gaze. The small cough had revealed itself inconsistently the last few days, occasionally appearing in the morning and during the night as he slept. However, Arthur was adamant each time that he was fine and didn't need to see a doctor. Albert was unsure how to convince him otherwise. Arthur was simultaneously the most charming _and_ stubborn man he'd ever met. 

Albert sighed before running his fingers through the outlaw's hair. "Are you sure you don't want to see someone about that cough?"

"Al, it's only a small cough. For the love of God, you worry too much." 

"I know, but—”

"Everything’s fine." He insisted as he sat up to press his lips against Albert's forehead. "Come on, let's go into Valentine for some dinner. The two of us could use a good, hearty meal after all the travel’n we’ve done."

Albert nodded, although he was far from convinced. He knew, however, that there was no use in pressing the matter. They rose to their feet and mounted their horses before heading towards Valentine. 

It was a short ride and they slowed their horses as they made their way through town. Out of the corner of Arthur's eye, he caught the sight of three men loitering outside the old saloon by the church. Natural curiosity pulled his gaze over to them and he felt the blood drain from his face. There was no mistaking the distinct green vest and black jackets they wore. Arthur should've expected a run in with some O'Driscolls. Valentine was usually crawling with Colm's cockroaches, and he mentally cursed himself for the careless mistake.

He adjusted his hat and lowered his head as he scratched his beard, trying to conceal his face as they rode past them. The last thing he wanted was to drag Albert into his gang's messy rivalry with the O'Driscolls. He was desperately trying with all his might to keep the life he led from bleeding into Albert's, and the outlaw had done a swell job until now.

Of course, Albert was quick to notice the odd behavior. His keen eyes caught everything, and Arthur desperately hoped the man wouldn't say anything that would give him away.

"Arthur? Is everything alright?"

While Albert had incredible powers of observation, there were instances when he had trouble reading between the lines. Arthur continued to keep his head down as he turned to Albert to mouth the words 'not now'. He could feel the three men's stare on him, but he forced himself to keep the same pace as they made their way to the saloon by the general store.

They hitched their horses and as they neared the saloon doors, Arthur wrapped an arm around Albert's shoulders and had him go first into the saloon. It took all his strength to fight the urge to look over his shoulder at the rival gang members. Doing so would no doubt give him away if Albert hadn't accidentally done so already. He drew a deep breath in through his nose as he followed Albert inside.

He went up to the bartender to order their meals before joining him at a table. Albert thanked him as he set the steaming food down in front of him. Arthur nodded and angled his chair so he could keep an eye on the saloon doors. He was beyond on edge now, one hand resting just above his revolver as he took a seat across from Albert.

The photographer studied him with a furrowed brow as he ate. After spending a few days with him, he found that he could read him like an open book. Arthur's posture was rigid, and he hadn't touched the food in front of him. 

"What's wrong, Arthur?"

The question pulled his attention away from the door, his eyes flicking to meet Albert’s. "Those men back there were O'Driscolls."

"I presume they're a rival gang?"

Arthur scoffed. "That's not even the half of it."

For the first time since running into him at the gallery, Albert noticed something flicker behind his eyes that he couldn't identify. The outlaw's expression had hardened, and a deep crease was carved between his brows. He was beyond tense, and Albert wondered what kind of history he had with the gang. 

He reached forward and gave Arthur's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Everything is going to be fine,"

Arthur responded with a curt nod, his eyes flitting over to the window as he forced himself to pick up the fork with his left hand and kept the other resting on his holster. He'd lost his appetite, but he didn't want to worry Albert. The gentleman was concerned about the littlest things, and his impressive ability to notice most details didn't do much to help his anxious nature.

They talked as they ate and by the time the sun had gone down, Arthur had a bottle of whiskey in his hand to take the edge off. Albert eyed the dark bottle as he fidgeted with his hands. His gaze shifted to Arthur who had taken a lit match to the end of a cigarette.

"What happened between you and them? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...tense before." 

Arthur took in a deep lungful of the smoke as he thought over his words. "Our gangs have a long history. We tried a parley once, and I almost paid the price for the dumbass idea with my life."

"How? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

"I was by myself as lookout when they got me, and let’s just say they don’t play nice when they want information."

Albert was at a loss for words as he connected the dots. Now it made sense. The drinking, the cigarette, the unease, all of it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his heart ache for him. "Did someone come to rescue you?"

Arthur shook his head. "It would've been too dangerous. I got away on my own."

At first, Albert selfishly felt differently about the matter. It was Arthur’s life that had been at stake, and he didn’t understand how a gang that Arthur had described to be like family could leave him to fend for himself. Arthur appeared to be perfectly fine with knowing he had been left to fend for himself, which only confused him even more. However, he had to remember that there was a vast difference between their lifestyles and that he would never understand the dynamic between Arthur and his gang.

“It’s getting late,” Arthur finally said as he put out his cigarette. “I’m gonna see if there’s a room available in the hotel across the street while you finish what’s in front of you.”

Albert nodded, and Arthur took one last swig of his whiskey before walking out of the saloon. He pushed through the doors and grunted as he was abruptly shoved to the side. He felt strong arms wrap around his neck as he was pulled around into the alley between the general store and the saloon. Arthur struggled against the stranger as the two O'Driscolls from earlier appeared in front of him. 

"Looks like one of Dutch's boys strayed from the pack again." One of them jeered. "It’s actually quite impressive that you would make the same mistake twice."

The arms around his neck disappeared as the O'Driscoll behind him restrained his arms with the help of the other.

"You're going to pay for what you did to Connor and Dillon!" The leader of the trio said with narrow eyes.

"They got what was comin’ to them." Arthur retorted. 

The man swung without warning, his fist finding its mark on his temple with enough force to make his head ring. It was followed by a few more blows to his ribs and he grimaced, trying his best not to double over. The O'Driscoll grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact. 

"You're going to learn your lesson one way another, and this time you're going to tell us where Dutch is."

Arthur spat in the man's face and smirked as he recoiled. "I ain't telling you _shit_."

His response earned him another heavy punch to his jaw that only intensified the ache in his head. The man grabbed the lapel of his leather jacket. "Listen here you bastard, we aren’t taking no for an answer! Either you tell us, or we’ll kill you."

The click of a revolver's hammer being drawn back interrupted them. All four men turned their heads and Arthur's heart dropped to the ground, his shoulders slumping in dismay. Albert had joined them in the alley, his eyes wide but determined as he held out his revolver in front of him. 

“No one has to get hurt, just let him go and we’ll be on our way.” He said with a slight tremor in his voice.

Arthur knew the O'Driscolls could smell his inexperience and uncertainty. The man in front of him even chuckled at the sight, which only made the icy dread in the pit of his stomach grow.

"Who's your friend, pretty boy?"

Arthur ignored him, his eyes locking with Albert's. "Go back inside, _now_."

The O'Driscoll calmly made his way over to him, unphased by the six-shooter pointed at his chest. He effortlessly knocked the gun out of his hands and seized Albert.

Seeing the man put his hands on him ignited a fury deep inside Arthur’s bones that consumed him from the inside out. Driven by an animalistic rage, he managed to pull his right arm free, drew his knife, and plunged it into the chest of an O'Driscoll behind him. Without hesitation, he broke from the remainder of the other’s grasp and sent a throwing knife into the skull of the man who Albert was struggling with. The blade found its mark, and both men stumbled to the ground.

Albert scrambled away from the corpse as Arthur grabbed the collar of the last O'Driscoll standing. He retrieved his hunting knife from the dying O’Driscoll bleeding out in the grass and held it to the other’s throat, his lungs heaving as adrenaline coursed through his veins. The man begged for his life, but Arthur's heart was beating too loudly in his ears to make out the words. Not that he cared. There was no way of knowing that he wouldn't tell others about Albert. With his mind made up, he drove the knife into his chest. Arthur withdrew the weapon as the body fall to the ground and wiped his blade in the grass before sheathing it. He then turned to Albert whose jaw hung open as his eyes took in the gory sight before him. 

Arthur bit his lip, only just now realizing the violence he had unleashed in front of him. If skinning some dead wolves nearly two months ago made Albert uneasy, he didn't even want to imagine what he thought of him now. Arthur tentatively walked over and offered him a hand up which, to Arthur’s surprise, he took.

"Why don't you get a hotel room while I take care of this?" He offered.

Albert only nodded, still recovering from his shock. Arthur took him by the shoulders and gently led him out of the alley to get him moving before taking care of the bodies.

When Arthur had finished, he entered the hotel. The owner looked over his glasses and studied him. “It’s been a while. Rough night?”

“You could say that.” He grunted. “Say, you see a bearded man, ‘bout my height, walk in here maybe fifteen minutes ago?”

“Sure did, he’s in room two-b.”

Arthur thanked him and made his way up the stairs. Now that his adrenaline had subsided, he could feel a growing ache in his ribs with each breath. There was no doubt bruising there, and he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them was cracked. His hand hovered over the doorknob when he reached the room, and for a moment he considered taking his horse and leaving altogether. Albert had witnessed his true self, the part of him he had hoped to never reveal, and Arthur was certain he would want nothing to do with him now. He was a murderer and a thief, a monster even, had been for half of his life now. Being around Albert had subdued the beast for a while, but it always came back regardless of how hard he tried; it was who he was.

Arthur drew a deep breath as he gathered the courage to open the door. He finally stepped into the room where he found Albert sitting on the edge of the bed. His gaze lifted from his folded hands to meet Arthur's and he rose to his feet. Arthur avoided his eyes as he shut the door behind him but felt soft hands gently lift his face. While Albert's touch had been light and tender as always, Arthur grimaced and flinched without meaning to, his injuries throbbing and sensitive to the touch.

Albert immediately drew his hands back and examined the broken and bruised skin around his eye and jaw. "Those look quite nasty. I can see if the doctor has anything for them if you'd like?"

"Don't worry about it, Al." He sighed. "It's nothing serious."

"He can still give you something for the pain."

"I said it's nothing serious, just a few bruises, is all."

Albert looked him over regardless before taking his hand and sitting him down on the bed with him. Arthur complied but stared at the floorboards. He waited for Albert to rebuke or chastise him about what had happened, but instead, he simply tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. The outlaw's brow furrowed, confused by his affection.

"Did he hurt you?" Arthur finally asked. 

"No, and I believe I have you to thank for that."

He chose to ignore the comment and rose to his feet once again. "Well, I should let you get some rest."

Albert frowned and stopped him by taking hold of his hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I thought you might want some space after what..." his voice faltered as he tried to find the words, "after what I’ve done."

"Now where on earth did you get that idea?"

Arthur tilted his head, his headache growing stronger as he tried to understand the puzzling man before him. "I thought I horrified you back there."

"What? No!" He scoffed. "What you did to those men was certainly unanticipated, but what took me off guard was that you would go to such lengths for _me_."

Arthur's mouth parted some as he tried to grasp Albert's words. "Are you sayin' you ain't scared off by the fact that I killed three men without thinkin’ twice?"

"Well, it's not quite something I'd necessarily condone. And like I said, I was more stunned by how determined you were to save my foolish self yet again." He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes lowering to the floor. "I'm surprised you haven't grown tired of swooping in to rescue me. I feel like such a helpless fool."

Arthur sorely wished he was better at verbally expressing himself as he watched Albert's disposition change. He wanted to shower the man with loving and uplifting words that would help him understand how much he meant to him. Albert had been incredibly patient in doing the same for him, giving him just the right words of encouragement to help patch up his self-esteem. 

Arthur sat back down and gently took hold of his chin to lift his eyes to meet his. "I’d never grow tired of saving your life. I've only been teaching you self-defense because..." he thought over his next words and chose them with care, "well, because I can't stand the thought of losing you."

The tightness of his voice and the emotion swirling behind his blue eyes was all it took for Albert to believe him. Arthur was usually a stoic man and seeing him this way made his heart leap and twist in his chest. Albert had an idea of how much he cared about him by how the man treated and protected him, but hearing him actually say those words nearly brought tears to his eyes. Naturally, living in the city in addition to his profession in photography had brought many people from all over into his life, mostly in passing, but not once did he think he would find someone who felt so strongly for him. He cleared his throat from his own swell of emotions and withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket of his vest to wipe the blood off Arthur's lip and chin.

“And that, I am grateful for.” He said after a while. “I do apologize, however, for my ridiculous display of faux bravery back there. I nearly got myself killed, all while holding the very thing that could’ve prevented that situation.”

Arthur pulled away from his hand to give him a look. “Al, it’s a good thing you didn’t pull the trigger.”

His eyebrows drew together at the revelation. “What?”

“Killing a man does things to you, even if it _is_ out of self-defense. You’re a kind man with a gentle soul, and I’d hate to see something change that.” Especially if that something was directly his fault. Arthur would never forgive himself if that happened.

“Thank you, Arthur, for both your kind words and saving me back there.”

“You don’t have to thank me,”

“I don’t, but I want to.” Albert’s eyes flicked up to the discoloring around his eye and carefully touched his fingers to the skin that wasn’t bruised. “Does it hurt much?”

Arthur shrugged but winced as the pain in his ribs flared up with the motion. “Not too much.”

“Liar,” he grinned.

The outlaw rolled his eyes and brought the back of Albert’s hand to his lips. “It’s what I do best.”

He hummed in thought. “I disagree, there are other things that you’re far better at doing.”

“Like what?” He scoffed.

“Your drawing is impeccable, for one. You do a splendid job helping others, and your kisses are exceptional.”

Arthur chuckled as he felt a heat rise in his cheeks. “I highly doubt that one.”

“Well, there’s really only one way to know for sure who’s right,” Albert said with a smug grin that he didn't think the man was capable of having.

He gladly accepted his challenge and leaned forward, brushing his lips with Albert’s as his hand came up to cradle his face. Feeling Albert’s hand come up to rest on the back of his neck, Arthur captured his mouth with his own and felt him shiver. He felt Albert pull him closer by his neck and smirked as he gave his bottom lip a gentle nip. His eyes closed as he focused on the familiar sensation of Albert’s smooth lips and rough beard combined with his gentle yet firm grasp on the nape of his neck. Arthur kept his kiss tender as his hand slid up to run his fingers through the photographer’s soft hair. Albert’s hands began to wander, and Arthur involuntarily recoiled with a grunt when he felt his hand press against his sore ribs.

Albert was quick to pull away as he looked him over with concern. “Arthur?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, “just got a few bruised ribs.”

He nodded, mostly to himself, before gingerly removing his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. Arthur stayed still as the photographer’s keen eyes examined the contusions.

“Well, how does it look?”

“They’re not pretty, but I don’t think they’re broken. Of course, I’m no doctor, so please don’t take my word as gospel.”

“Trust me, they ain’t broken.” He replied.

“Nonetheless, it’s probably in your best interest that you get some sleep.”

Arthur sighed, but listened to his advice and lied down. Albert smiled, thankful that he hadn’t argued with him this time. He positioned himself beside him on his uninjured side and rested his head against his shoulder. Arthur listened to the rhythm of his breathing as it slowed, indicating the man had drifted off to sleep. With a soft kiss pressed against the dark waves of his hair, he closed his own eyes and allowed himself to be carried away into a deep sleep.


End file.
